


Give me a start, give me one night

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: two miserable people meeting at a wedding au asked by waknatious back at tumblr“One night.” Emma wasn’t truly sure why she was offering such idea to the woman in front of her. The gorgeous woman in front of her. She only saw something there, felt something, a pull, a call. And she still could remember that those almost never failed her. As opposed to what her ideas of being tied by honor and expectations did. “I’m not a serial killer. I promise.”





	Give me a start, give me one night

**Author's Note:**

> I received this same prompt from delirious-comfort the same day I received this one from waknatious. I tend to try to avoid it but, this time, I answered both prompts. Delirious’ is the one titled "A thought I can get behind" if anyone feels like reading a second take on the idea but with a different perspective

It didn’t dawn at Emma at first, not as she stared at the brunette she had caught applying makeup on tear-streaked cheeks on the bathroom she had barreled into, nervousness clutching on her stomach as she tried to avoid Killian and his questions about when they were going to marry.

Truthfully, the second Emma had entered and closed the door behind her, cursing the high heels Mary Margaret had told her that looked good on her and were already slicing her skin open, she had had a moment of doubt, of phantom-like recognizement of the figure that gave her her back. She, however, had felt way too preoccupied on Mary Margaret and on Hook, the telling ring the dark-haired man had been playing with the reason why she had left her still half-eaten dessert and left the table, skin prickling. Honestly, she had needed a few more seconds before she had focused entirely on the mirror that covered one side of the room, hands searching the faucet and switching it on in an almost mechanic movement, before she had truly registered that the woman that, with shaky hands and fingers was trying to fix what fully seemed to be a break down, was also on the bathroom with her was the one she had seen getting married a few hours ago.

“ _Gorgeous.”_ The word that had appeared on her mind the moment Mary Margaret had whispered at her that yes, that woman not more than two years older than her, was going to marry her father, was still on full effect. Despite of, she added to the back of her mind, the running mascara and the slight glimmer of tiredness and hopelessness that made her feel dumb.

She had felt and heard the whispers and looks, the ones dedicated to the brunette, the ones muttered from group to group but she, still trying to understand why her friend had asked her to come to such ceremony, had tried not to focus on any of them. Now, however, as the brunette’s hand halted and her brown eyes founded hers across the mirror, that didn’t seem to be possible.

Swallowing and thankful of the cream-colored lighting of the place, Emma smiled shyly as the other woman tilted her neck, a visible mask forming in front of her eyes as she did so; lips pursed and shoulders unnaturally still. The perfect posture Emma was sure Mary Margaret might one day achieve to have.

“I’m sorry.” She found herself saying, a bumbling set of words that fell to the tiled floor and echoed uncomfortably on the white and gold accents that crawled up the walls. “I… thought it was empty.”

The bride -Regina if Emma remembered correctly, shook her head and pushed herself off the mirror. She had changed dresses, Emma denoted; quite too late. That had been the reason why she hadn’t recognized her; the giant monstrosity she had been wearing before completely gone and replaced by a deep blue fabric that accentuated each curve in a way that only made Emma’s epithet even truer.

“You shouldn’t be. I guess that getting to tell you have seen me crying will grant you enough status to make it better.”

It was a bitter tone but a defeated one and Emma, despite the sudden rage that threatened to overtake it, could see the way it coiled on the woman’s chest, cold and weathered. Pressing the tip of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she took a step forward while shaking her head; she hadn’t been on that many weddings, but she had seen enough girls with the same kind of tiredness around their eyes; words and alcohol bubbling inside. She had been one of those once after all; before, after and while on prison.

“I don’t know a soul here.” She said, hands up, gentle smile on her lips. At one point Lily had told her it had an almost boyish charm. She truly hoped that was something the other girl hadn’t lied her about. “Besides, I don’t think there is a higher status for someone who wish to tell they have seen someone crying on a bathroom.”

The other woman snorted at that and narrowed her eyes at her, gentleness settling on her features as she took on hers, perhaps realizing she truly didn’t know who she was.

“You… came with Mary Margaret, right?” Her voice wasn’t as cutting but it still had a deeper echo there at the mention of Emma’s friend. One the blonde couldn’t truly blame her for. With a gentle nod, Emma answered the question, hands lowering as the other woman hummed, seemingly trying to pinpoint her name. “Anna?”

“Emma.” The blonde replied. “I… I work at the station with David. Her boyfriend.”

“Regina.” The brunette murmured, mechanically. “You came with a plus one…”

Emma laughed a little at that, at the faraway look Regina got, suddenly. She could only try to understand the amount of job a wedding had. And she wasn’t planning on learning it soon.

“Killian.” She answered, shuddering a little at the thought of the dark-haired man. Man who would be waiting for her the second she stepped out that door. “I’m not sure if I did right by bringing him over, though.”

That made Regina snort, a sudden sound that made her shoulders lose the perfect posture they had had until then. Lost that, the brunette seemed even younger than before, perhaps a few months older than Emma beyond the make-up and dress. Which painted a frightening picture on the blonde’s mind.

She had heard the rumors after all. Not the ones on the wedding but the ones Mary Margaret had been dropping every time she came to the station. About the bride’s mother. About her own father. One that, according to her, was the sweetest man on earth after David. One that, according to Emma’s bullshit detector, didn’t seem any different than a few of the ones both David and she encountered on a daily basis.

“If I can offer you any advice; don’t get married.”

With that, and a nod to her, the brunette walked towards the door, the ricocheting of her high heels approaching Emma as the blonde bit down on her bottom lip; a sudden idea flashing before her eyes. It was a potential bad idea. But she wasn’t known for anything else after all.

“How about we don’t go out there?”

Regina turned and stared at her, brow raising as she gave her a once over. One that made Emma swallow thickly.

“Do you pretend for us to stay here all night long?” The words dripped sarcasm and Emma chuckled at it. She had heard it worse directed at her.

“No, I mean that we could just… go. I’ve seen the back doors; we could be out of here before they realize we are gone.”

The doubt clouded Regina’s eyes once again; turning them darker with every new second it passed.

“I just got married. I can’t simply go…”

“One night.” Emma wasn’t truly sure why she was offering such idea to the woman in front of her. The gorgeous woman in front of her. She only saw something there, felt something, a pull, a call. And she still could remember that those almost never failed her. As opposed to what her ideas of being tied by honor and expectations did. “I’m not a serial killer. I promise.”

“I’m not exactly worried about that.”

Emma smiled at that, at the way Regina was eyeing her as if actually thinking on the plan, on saying yes.

“Then you don’t need to worry about anything else. It’s a start.”

And it truly felt like one as Regina nodded and opened the door, letting Emma go first. But Emma didn’t believe in fate after all so, did it matter?

It did, of course it did but she didn’t know about it later. Much, much later.


End file.
